A Thousand Years
by HardlyFatal
Summary: Prequel to One Less Star. Mysterious figures, Midoriko and Inutaisho... a fondness for mikos runs in the family, it would seem. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story as a get-well-soon and birthday prezzie for houses, who managed to injure herself. She's a fantastic beta and truly remarkable person.

**A Thousand Years, part 1   
**by CinnamonGrrl for houses

_We were together  
__Only a little while  
__And we believed our love  
__Would last a thousand years  
_--Yakamochi

Our first meeting was in battle.

Long had I wished to fight her, the powerful Southern miko called Midoriko. She had cut a swathe through the lower ranks of youkai that might never be recovered; her prowess at the slaughter of we darker beings was matched only by her wisdom, it was said.

"Ha," thought I when she came to engage me in warfare. How wise could she be, if she did not flinch at the mere idea of crossing swords with me? For I am Inutaisho, greatest lord of the West that has ever been, and I am undefeated. She is renowned, but I am a legend. Long years have I ruled my lands, long years that I would not have ended by a human, no matter how powerful a miko she may be.

We met on a fine spring morning. All night she had pressed closer to my realm, her slaughter of the lesser demons unabated, and when she crested the ridge to where I awaited her, she was bloody and tired. The sun was at my back, welcome warmth against the dew and chill, and it fell on her surprised face like a lover's caress.

"At last," I said, watching with patience as she came forward, and wondered why she did not immediately attack. Later, she would tell me that she had been struck dumb and nearly senseless by my beauty as I stood there, haloed by the weak, early sunlight. At the time, however, I thought she must be weary indeed to not press forward in an onslaught to defeat me.

She was not especially beautiful, it seemed to me, but rather ordinary. Plain. Petite in the way of her mortal people, of course, and dark of hair and eyes. Those eyes seemed to burn with a hidden fire, though... intelligence and wisdom, and also a glimmer of mercy...

It was that mercy that was to be her downfall, and mine.

The miko Midoriko seemed to reawaken, then, and squared her slight shoulders. "You will be Inutaisho, then," she commented as if we were meeting at a party.

"I am," I acknowledged with a nod of my head.

"I had expected a beast," she said bluntly. "Like the others."

Ah. So accustomed to the lesser youkai she killed, it had never occurred to her that one so strong as I would be capable of both bestial and human forms.

"Shall this make it harder for you?" I inquired, curious. "That you must attack one who appears to be one of your own kind?"

"Harder, yes," Midoriko replied with an honesty I would learn was ingrained into her being. Then she raised her sword, and her eyes flattened, became purposeful. "But not impossible."

She came at me then, and our swords rang off each other, filling the fresh morning air with the sound of battle. It was a sound I had always taken much joy in, and this day was no exception. We thrust, swiped, slashed and parried. I engaged the whip of power that jetted from my fingers, slicing open her armour, and each touch of her weapon released a bolt of purifying violet that burnt off my protective garb.

We fought for hours, and it seemed that each had finally met his match. Finally, chests heaving with breath and limbs limp from fatigue, we lay on the ground recovering from the exchange of heavy blows.

"I do not wish to kill you," she said suddenly, propping herself up on her elbow and fixing me with a probing stare. "If you will pledge to do no harm to ningen, and control those under your rule from doing the same, I will permit you to live."

I was struck by her gaze, feeling pierced to the core. I am old now, but I was old then, too, and still this miko had managed to surprise me. An extraordinary comment it was, after all. "Why do you not wish to kill me?" I asked, curious.

But she would not answer, only watched me with her fathomless eyes. She was dirty, streaked with blood and sweat, and yet unbeaten. She would fight me to her death, I knew, and suddenly did not want to end the life of such a being, courage and skill being two qualities ever in short supply in this world...

"Only this, I must pledge?" I asked her, getting to my feet. She rose, too, and we stood regarding each other. "You would trust my word?"

"You are honourable," Midoriko stated.

I had to smile. "You know this, how?" I tilted my head to one side in the dog-like way all inu-youkai possess.

"I tested you," she replied calmly. "I allowed many openings in my defense you could have taken advantage of, were you interested in a dishonourable but quick victory. And yet, you did not pursue a single one, though I knew you were aware of them." She brought up a small, grubby hand to scrub at the tracks made by sweat in the filth on her face.

The gesture, remarkably childlike, sent anger surging, pure and hot, through me. It reminded me that I had been fought to an impasse by a human, a female, and one centuries younger than myself. Yes, I had seen those openings, had thought she needed improvement and wondered how she had lasted so long with such flaws in her technique.

"That you would dare test this Inutaisho!" I hissed in fury. "I am inu-youkai, but not a dog whose mettle must be tried!"

My anger distressed her, but there was no scent of fear... she stood before me without a trace of humility or terror, and my anger descended into rage. In a flash I was before her, my hands on her arms. In that moment, I was determined to vanquish her in a way that showed my contempt of her, in a way that had nothing to do with her being a warrior and everything to do with her being female. I wanted to conquer her in the most primal way possible.

I kissed her, hard enough to scrape her lips with my fangs and draw blood, but she only opened her mouth for me. I ground myself against her, but she only melted in my brutal embrace and clasped me tighter. I tore at her clothes, baring her to my hungry gaze and hungrier mouth, but she only pushed the scraps of fabric out of the way and offered herself to me.

My hands grasped her hips, pulled her up to my mouth, and I plundered her, tasting the honey that poured because of me. I was not gentle, and yet her only protest was when I stopped.

Mikos must be pure, it is said; untouched, virginal. Had I had any of my mind left at this point, I would have realized that my actions were to my benefit. Relieving her of her maidenhead would effectively solve my problem, or so I might have thought. But there was nothing of strategy in my actions as I settled myself between her thighs and pierced her deeply, no, no strategy at all. Just this burning need to slake myself in her willing body.

I rode Midoriko hard, kissed her harder. And still she welcomed me, encouraged me, her heels drumming against my back as she urged me to join her in completion. When we were finished, I stared down at her face, flushed pink from lust and exertion. Her eyes were dark as a moonless sky, and even more secretive. I wondered how I had ever thought her plain.

"You have ensorcelled me," I accused softly, even as I could not stop my lips from tracing the line of her jaw.

"Only as you have, me," she replied, her hands gentle as she combed my hair with her fingers.

I disengaged myself from her, ignoring both my pang of loss and her face's expression of the same. "This changes nothing," I said, and stood.

"No," she agreed, standing also, and beginning to pull the rags of her clothing back on. "Nothing is changed."

The was nothing more to say. I took up my sword from where I had so shamefully discarded it on the ground in my passion, and flew north, toward my home. And though I did not look back, still I knew she watched as I left.

I had made Midoriko no promise, but I made no attack on the ningen in my lands of the West. I made my displeasure of it known to those of my youkai subjects who would brutalize the humans, though made no formal decree in my pride's refusal to bend to the request of the miko.

Over the course of the next year, I found my thoughts often returning to her. Virgin no more, what had befallen her? For a despoiled miko is without temple, without congregation, without power.

Or so I believed.

After a year, spring was melting into the heat of summer, and some of my subjects were chafing against my informal prohibition against violence toward humans. Concerned with matters of warfare against the lord of the North, I was not aware that these youkai under my rule were behaving thusly until rumours of their particularly brutal slaughter by the powerful miko from the South reached my ears.

And so, once more, I sought her. When I found her, in a rice paddy of all places, I wondered again at her supposed wisdom, for unless I were mistaken—which I never am—there was a flash of joy, of utter gladness, on her face before it settled into a cool, remote mask.

Then I wondered at my own wisdom, for her joy was matched by my own. The year had been kind to her, and she appeared as serene as at our first encounter. "This Inutaisho has heard lore," I began, "of a miko more powerful even than the famed Midoriko." I studied her a moment. "But Midoriko is maiden, and thus miko, no longer," I continued.

She smiled, then, surprising me. "I had not thought you susceptible to old wives' tales," she said. "Purity is a state of mind, not of body. My power remains undiminished." She paused a moment. "It is, in fact, augmented by my... newfound knowledge."

I will admit that I gaped at her a moment. By ravishing her, I had made her more powerful? Truly, I am a fool, in more ways than merely the one. But she was still smiling at me, and my gaze roamed over her face with a hunger that should have shamed me.

"You have killed my subjects," I said, forcing my attentions to more important matters. "I do not fault you in this, as they were disobedient to me."

Midoriko nodded, but seemed sad. "The human lords clamour for me to defeat you," she said abruptly. "They want your war with the Northern lord to end. Too many humans are trapped within your dispute." She looked away a moment, speaking to the horizon. "If I do not, they will send an army here, and destroy both your realm and the North."

"Do not scoff," she warned, seeing my skepticism. "They are most determined, and their forces are mighty and well-provisioned." She dropped her gaze. "I fear for you," she whispered.

"You insult me," I snapped, drawing myself up.

"I do not," she snapped back. "Each of us has a point at which we are vulnerable, at which we can be defeated." She forced a half-smile. "Even this Inutaisho can fall."

"And yet I shall not," I told her, stepping close and forcing her chin up to meet my eyes. "I shall not fall."

"Do not chance it," she urged. "What compromise can be made with the Northern lord?"

"Compromise?" the word tasted bitter on my tongue. "I, Inutaisho, compromise with no one."

"Do you wish to fight always?" Midoriko demanded. "Do you never wish for peace for your lands, your people? Do you wish for your heirs to inherit a prosperous realm? Or one wracked by death and misery?"

Her hands came up to clasp my arms. "Inutaisho," she said, the first time she ever addressed me by name, "I will not be long for this world. I have held my people at bay for this year, but they will not listen to me forever. Once I am gone, they will attack you. They will defeat you."

Now it was I who clasped her. "What do you mean?" I asked, and my voice was raspy with emotion. "What have you seen?"

"There are omens," she replied, and the sadness in her eyes was nearly my undoing. "It is said that a mighty battle is coming, and though I shall win, I shall also lose."

I was unprepared for the flare of grief within me, of panic and pain and fear. "No," I told her. "It shall not be. I will not allow it."

"Inutaisho," Midoriko said softly, her hand a mere whisper on my striped cheek. "You cannot change this. I accept my fate; always have I suspected that my life would be short."

But I would not hear such words being spoken, and silenced her with my lips. Once more, we sank to the ground. This time, I took her without rage, but no less passion. This time, it was her mouth that worshipped me, and I chanted her name like a saving mantra. When she sank onto me, I wondered where my disgust of humans and loathing of their sacred mikos had fled to; the feelings Midoriko engendered in me held no resemblance to those darker emotions.

Her scent beguiled me; I revelled in it, rubbed her against my skin so I was steeped in it. Her power and knowledge called to me, turning contempt to respect. And when we soared to completion together, I found myself repeating and returning her gasps of love.

"What compromise can you make with the Northern lord?" she asked me again as we lay, languorous and replete, in the tall grasses besides the paddies.

Forcing my pride away, I scrutinized the situation. She was correct; I could not support a war against both the North and ningen. "I do not know," I replied at last, feeling a tinge of despair seep into my euphoria.

"I have heard," she said after a long while, "that the Northern lord's daughter is ripe for mating." She gazed down at me from her position sprawled over my body. "I have heard she is lovely, with eyes of silver and hair of fire."

I stared at her in horror. "She is tiger-youkai!" I exclaimed. "And cold as the ice of her homeland!" Another thought assailed me, and I blurted it out before I could stop myself. "You wish me to wed another?" I growled, pushing her off me to sit up, pulling my clothes on. "An odd sentiment, I feel, after what we have shared here."

Midoriko watched quietly as I dressed, then reached for her own garments. "I do not," she answered at long last. "No more than you wish me to wed another."

"I would kill any who dared," I said flatly, and stood, looming over her. "Know this, Midoriko. I, Inutaisho, will kill any who even think of courting you."

She stood as well, her little hands resting on my chest and reminding me how much smaller she was than I. "I know," she said. "I think only of a way to end this unrest between your lands. Marrying the Northern lord's daughter would bind your realms, and your child would form a basis for peace and unity."

Midoriko took my face in her hands and fixed me with a stare that was unsettling in its intensity. "I want you to prosper, Inutaisho," she said. "I would sacrifice all else to know you are well."

I crushed her to me, feeling her heart pounding against my own. "Then you are a fool," I sighed into her hair, hair that had blades of grass entangled in it from our tryst. "We are both fools."

Within the month, my proposal to the Northern lord's haughty and distant daughter had been received, considered, and accepted. Neither of us were eager for this union, but just as I loved my realm, Akako loved hers, and wished for the carnage and destruction to end.

Just as Midoriko had said, Akako was lovely, and even if she were cold, her beauty was temptation enough for me to concretize our vows on the wedding night. Still, though, it was another face that swam in my vision and another name hovering on my lips when I was undone...


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story as a get-well-soon prezzie for houses, who managed to injure herself. She's a fantastic beta and truly remarkable person.

**A Thousand Years, part 2**   
by CinnamonGrrl for houses

_We were together_   
_Only a little while  
__And we believed our love  
__Would last a thousand years  
_--Yakamochi

Another year, and in the autumn word reached me of a powerful group of youkai in the South engaged in a vendetta against the miko Midoriko. Her powers had only been increasing, and her protection of the ningen settlements formerly under the reign of youkai terror had nearly destroyed their population in the southern and eastern regions.

A group of youkai had organized to eliminate her. This I learnt from ambassadors of those regions came to enlist my help, as they had heard of how I had battled with her, yet remained undefeated—the only youkai to do so. Jealous of her seeming avoidance of the West, they wished to know my secret of success against her.

Akako did not wish my involvement in this war with the miko. She was by this time carrying what was to be our only child, and her time to deliver was nearing. She said she hoped it would have my ivory hair and golden eyes, but my only concern was that he not bear her sanguine nature. A cold woman was Akako, bloodthirsty and vicious, opportunistic and single-minded in pursuit of a goal: the ideal youkai. Had I met her before Midoriko, my heart might well have been hers. But it would seem there is some failing within me, some weakness that draws me to humanity…

"Perhaps a compromise can be reached," I told the ambassadors. "The miko is fond of compromise."

"But how can we compromise," demanded the envoy of the dragon-youkai of the South, "when to approach her is to be killed?"

"I will approach her on your behalf," I told them, "for though she is keen to slay me, still she has not been able to." Yes, I can be an accomplished liar when it suits my purposes. They believed me, and in spite of Akako's protests, off I went to seek her.

I found her in a cave not far from a village of demon exterminators. I made no sound, but yet she knew of my presence. She stood in the centre of the cave, head tilted back as she studied the damp walls, the stalagmites jutting down like knives.

"This is where I shall meet my end," she said by way of greeting. Fury bubbled up in me but before I could vent it, she continued, "I hear you are to be a father. I congratulate you."

I bowed in recognition of her words, but was troubled by her acceptance of my situation. "How can you bear it so easily?" I demanded. "Were you carrying the get of another, I assure you, it would not be my congratulations you would hear—"

Midoriko kissed me, and I poured all my frustration out into her embrace. "I do not bear it easily," she whispered when we pulled back. "If you knew the number of tears I have shed at the knowledge you are wed to another, of my shameful jealousy that it is not I who will bear your child... ah, Inutaisho, my soul is heavy with loss."

"You have lost nothing," I tried to assure her. "For whilst she may have my child, you have my love, and always shall. And the love of this Inutaisho will endure, a thousand years or more."

She wept then, and if I am honest I will admit that I wept some, too. "What good is love if it is doomed?" she asked. "What good is pain if there is nothing gained by it?" Midoriko lifted her head from my chest and stared up at me. "What can come of such suffering?"

"Not all is suffering," I told her, my hands stroking over her, reminding her of the sweetness that could be had, as well. Shuddering, she fell into my embrace, pulling at my clothing with an intensity that surprised and pleased me. I took her from behind the first time, glad to let my nature assert itself, delighting in her receptive moans and eager arching back to meet each thrust.

The second time, we took our pleasure of each other with more leisure, exploring each other as we had never had time to do before. Compared to the deep peace I found in Midoriko's eyes, and the jasmine-scented darkness of her hair, Akako's flamboyant beauty seemed garish and overblown.

"I would give you a child," I whispered to her sometime in the night. "I would not be bothered by fathering a hanyou, conceived in love."

Her trembling fingertips traced lightly over my face. "I would have been honoured to be the mother of your child," Midoriko whispered back. "But there shall be no children for me."

I placed a hand possessively on her belly. "What of this time?" I asked. "You are approaching heat soon, and I am not expected back for days. If we—"

She shook her head, glossy hair pooling on my chest. "I shall be dead before the spring," she said.

I protested, railed and even screamed against this, but she only watched me sadly. "It shall not change," she told me, and pulled my head to her lap, stroking my hair in the way that soothed me. "No matter how we wish otherwise, the gods will not be dissuaded from this fate of mine."

"Then I shall at least be here to delay this hated destiny," I told her, determination flowing like fire in my veins. "You will live as long as I, Inutaisho, have the power to ensure."

We tarried long in that cave, and learned all there was to learn of each other. Throughout our time together, daily Midoriko partook of a tea that would prevent her from conceiving. "I would not bring our child to meet my fate," she said sadly as she drank it the first time.

After a week, it was time for me to return to my duties in the West, and she had evil to confront elsewhere. She agreed to the compromise I proposed, that she would cease her slaughter of the southern and eastern demons if they agreed to leave the ningen of those territories alone.

I returned to the West, revealed the new truce between the miko and the South and East, and was amused to hear how Midoriko was telling the tale of the fierce battle she had fought with the Western taiyoukai in the cave, how closely she had come to being conquered...

"But I did conquer you, miko," I thought. "As often as you conquered me."

Life settled into something almost pleasant, then. My son was born, and at his mother's insistence, we named him Sesshoumaru. "Killing Perfection" is somewhat of a steep nomenclature to live up to, I felt, but Akako would not be dissuaded. He was my very image, but for the stripes on his tiny face; where my own were jagged and violet, his were smooth streaks of fuchsia, like those of his mother.

My pride in my son was immense, matched only by my desire to present him to Midoriko, and I was not surprised to receive, one day, a scroll bearing a birth-blessing for him. The seal at the bottom was not one I recognized, but I had only to smell it to know the scent of she who had sent it. Midoriko had poured a huge amount of her power into this blessing, and I knew that my son would be well served by it throughout his lifetime.

The winter was mild, but the approach of spring and Midoriko's death made me... unpleasant to be around. All bore the brunt of my impotent rage, all except for Sesshoumaru; he alone had the ability to calm me. It was ironic, I felt, that the coolness of temperament that had repelled me in his mother, attracted me to him. His quiet golden gaze, his silent watchfulness, soothed me as only Midoriko had been able.

It was by merest chance that I learnt of her final battle. I had gone hunting that morning, and was entering the house via the forest entrance when I overheard the discussion of two newcomers.

"That miko's not long for this world," one said. "She's been in that cave for five days already, and she can't defeat them. They're too strong, they've been preparing for a year." He chuckled, a low and oily sound. "And no more than she deserves, lowly ningen that she is."

"I wonder," pondered the second, "if they shall ruin her before they kill her? It is a common happenstance during war, but to mate with a human, even by force…" His words trailed off. "Disgusting."

I killed them, and did not trouble myself to make it easy for them. Their pleas for me to explain their crime were their last words. I never answered; this Inutaisho need not explain himself. I left without a word to anyone; foolish, I know, but what words could I use to tell my wife I was going to rescue my lover, and might lose my life in the process?

"Even more foolish to go at all," I thought as I flew to the cave, my heart in my throat. To risk my lands, my son's inheritance, for a human miko… it was madness. And yet I would have slain any who tried to stop me, without a backward glance, without a pang of remorse.

I arrived at the cave. From within issued horrific sounds of violence, of weapons rending armour. Inhuman screams of pain, and I smiled—she was holding them off nicely. I tried to enter the cave, and was thrown back against the villagers milling about, curiosity and dread plain on their faces as they listened to their saviour do battle.

"Why can I not enter?" I demanded, but none would answer, none but a girl-child.

"Midoriko sealed it," she offered timidly. "She feared for any to interrupt. She said she would not have any more destroyed than necessary." The girl peered more closely at me. "She said there was one who would give his life to save hers, and that he must live."

Fury rose within me, and I turned back to the barrier, pounding on it with my fists and hacking with my sword, my entire might behind it, before falling to my knees. She had known I would come, and thwarted me. How I hated her then, hated her for keeping me from her side, hated her determination to die alone when I would gladly have died with her.

I scoured the mountain in which the cave was situated, desperate for another entrance, but there was none. I tried to dig out a new hole but even the massive strength and sharp claws of my beast-form could not penetrate the rock. Time and again, I returned to the barrier blocking my entrance to the cave, and time and again was repelled.

All the while, the sounds of Midoriko's struggle with the demons issued forth. Each of her cries of pain or exertion ate at me, making my fists and stomach and eyes clench in despair. Both hoping and dreading the end of those sounds, I could not bear to hear her pain, and yet if it stopped… if her cries came no more… it would mean her death.

Powerless and anguished, I slid down the barrier and buried my face in my hands. There I remained another day and night, and then finally came the moment I feared: all sound from within abruptly ceased. I had leant my back against the barrier; its fading made me fall into the mouth of the cave. Instantly, I was on my feet, running to Midoriko.

Her power was immense, and throbbed like a heartbeat. Leaving the narrow tunnel, I burst into the main chamber to find her clenched in the jaws of an immense, absolutely colossal demon. The tail of a scorpion, legs and claws of an eagle, body of a lion, and head of a wolf—all combined into a monstrous creature that gave even this Inutaisho pause, in awe and fear.

I ran forward with blinding speed, but she knew I was there, somehow, and raised a bloodied hand, stopping me with another barrier. She spoke, and as though through deep water, I heard her.

"I will die for you, my Inutaisho," she said. "You will live for me."

And she reached out with that hand, thrusting it deep into the chest of the beast mutilating her. An unearthly howl arose then, for Midoriko was grasping its soul, entrapping it within her own, condemning herself to an eternity of struggle and combat. She withdrew from its protesting body a murky black shadow, and it flowed up her arm, malignant and thick.

She pressed with her hands, forcing it into her own chest, and for a moment she was encompassed by its evil gloom. Then Midoriko shuddered, and her face transformed, not unlike when I pleasured her during our joining.

A burst of light, then, violet and piercing; the murk was dispelled, winking out as suddenly as a blown-out candle. And she was screaming, screaming… to this day, I hear her screams in my head. Again I watched, listened, unable to move as she suffered. Something burst from her chest, something pale and glistening and effulgent, as she gave a single whimper. It floated in the air, but my eyes were locked on Midoriko.

"Beloved," she mouthed, her gaze gentle on me, making nearly no sound at all, but my soul knew the word she spoke. She seemed to be stiffening, her limp form still clutched by the beast becoming rigid. I as watched, my fists pounding yet again on a wall keeping me from her, grey rock seemed to flow up her body, fusing it forever to the creature she had just destroyed. "Belo-"

And then her lips were frozen forever, bound by merciless stone. The barrier abruptly fell, and I lurched forward, scaling the demon like a tree to reach her. "Midoriko," I called, shouted, screamed, but she was gone, and only a statue was left. Cold granite, but tears yet welled in the corners of the blank, unseeing eyes that were still turned to me. And in the centre of her chest, where her heart had resided, was a hole, an empty cavern.

How long I remained there, lost in grief, I do not know. Eventually, the villagers crept into the cave. Some tried to speak to me; some wanted to pull me away from her. The first who tried was dead before he could take another breath, and my claws dripped his blood across her battered armour.

I came to my senses eventually, and left the cave. I wandered home, not flying but walking, aware that each step took me farther from Midoriko. When finally I was within my own home again, Akako said not a word, but placed Sesshoumaru in my arms. His calming presence smoothed my ragged soul; not much, not enough to erase the pain of loss, but enough to bear it.

Life went on. Akako died giving birth to our daughter, who also died. I reared Sesshoumaru alone, then, and became aware that he had in fact inherited his mother's coldness and utter contempt for humanity. Like her, he was entirely too hasty in dealing death instead of life, and I resolved to find a way I could impart some mercy, that most powerful of Midoriko's traits, in him.

Years passed, and I made the acquaintance of a human woman, Izayoi. She did not look like Midoriko; she was no miko, had no power to speak of. But she was kind, and gentle, and when I put my head in her lap and she stroked my hair, I was able to pretend, though it was wrong of me.

We had a boy-child together, and I named him Inuyasha. She is a fine mother, I think, and he is well on his way to being a fine adult. His hanyou blood marks him for derision from both ningen and youkai worlds, and though I try to unearth the disgust I myself used to have for half-breeds, to look at him, all I can see is my son.

He, too, has the look of me, though the eagerness and open affection in his demeanour is all human, and nothing of youkai. This son will not have the blessing of a miko, I fear, and I hope that his life will be a good one, free of sorrow and filled with success. But he is selfish, this latest son of mine, and unable to see others' needs for his own.

I have commissioned the making of two swords, one for each of my children. Each shall address a lack in their character that I cannot remedy, but which will only change and improve with their own grudging practice of it. Sesshoumaru will be furious with his Tenseiga, I know, and Inuyasha will rage against the futility of his Tetsusaiga. And yet this is what they need, what I know Midoriko would have advised I do to complete the rearing of them, though it be after my own death.

Yes, my death. I know it is coming, even as I strap on my armour for this battle. The dragon of the south has encroached upon my lands until I can no longer ignore him, and the dragon-youkai are notorious for their ruthless ways. This Inutaisho is as a mere pup compared to their ferocity, I assure you.

And I fear that I have not the longing for life I once had. Too late have I learnt that one person cannot replace another; Izayoi is not Midoriko. Midoriko is gone. My death is coming. Is it wrong to rush headlong toward it? Is it futile to hope we shall be reunited after I die? For I do not know where reposes the soul of my miko; there is rumour that it is trapped in the jewel that was borne of her heart, the jewel in which is captured the monster she battled for seven nights and seven days.

I fly to the South, to meet the dragon. We fight, we clash, we strive. I stare into his red eyes and see my doom. But I also see peace, and the end to my longings, and perhaps I am not quick or as steadfast as I should be.

There are his claws, raking across my chest, rending my armour from me. There is his breath, hot and rancid, as he kneels on me, holding me down so he can clamp his jaws around my neck. And there is my end, life fading as he tears out my throat. And yet I manage to mouthe, "Beloved," hoping that somehow, Midoriko can hear me, and know I call to her in my last moments.

Thus ends the tale of the great inu-youkai, Inutaisho, and the love he bore a human miko.


End file.
